


Friends, Not Food

by TooManyPsuedonyms



Series: Mobile Thoughts [8]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: But Slightly Disturbing, Empathy, Finding Nemo references, Gen, Implied Predators, Implied that Will is on the Spectrum, Kidfic, M/M, Mention of Dead Relatives, Not alot of people understand, OC's - Freeform, Simple story-telling from child POV, very light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 14:10:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14262699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooManyPsuedonyms/pseuds/TooManyPsuedonyms
Summary: Will is five when his father gets a job for a very wealthy woman. He soon makes friends with her nephew by the koi pond, and instantly, seem to bond.





	Friends, Not Food

**Author's Note:**

> I just have a very heavy head-cannon I have had forever about how Hannibal and Will might have become childhood friends.
> 
> This was originally going to be longer, going on into the teen years--but eh, it's hard to type out a super complicated fic on a phone.
> 
> So please enjoy this collective drabble of darker things told through a child's perspective.

Will is barely five when his dad moves him into a tiny house at the back of a bigger house. It has very big, very black gates and large bushes everywhere. Mazes of shrubberies and a little, little pond with some sand and rocks. It's peaceful. Will and his dad live close to the garage—so his dad can work on the cars, do the driving, and run all the errands. Will sleeps in a hammock above his dad—sometimes he falls on him, but that's why he isn't on the broken cot below with father.

 

His father is trying—they have a small TV, a little table, and what his dad calls a "kitchenette." Will takes baths in the sink and dad says soon they'll have to use the tub sitting in the corner in a few months, Will's growing so big, so fast. It makes Will smile happy for a moment and his dad smiles back—but tired and sad. Will immediately mirrors the expression and his dad looks away with a sigh.

 

"Um, just… try and stay positive, buddy," he says, breath smelling less like nicotine than usual. Will nods, and his dad finishes washing his hair. "Now, the Lady of house is nice, so, let's be grateful too, huh? No sad faces; remember your _please_ and especially, _thank you’_ s if you ever see her. Okay?"

 

"... 'Kay," Will answers, blinking through soapy water. It stings a bit, and he rubs. "Ow..."

 

"Sorry, buddy," his dad apologizes, quickly rinsing the shampoo away.

 

Will tries to be good, but ends up crying for his mom. His dad has to stop. He wraps up Will tight in a towel. He gets the cot that night. and in the morning, smells like cigarettes and something else that’s bitter and choking. He doesn't end up driving anywhere, so he washes the cars one by one instead.

 

Dad lets Will play in the gardens since he was being so quiet.

 

Will ends up at the koi pond, staring at fishes. He pats at the top of the water, and they get scared away. He pops up and darts after them, "Sorry! Sorry! Come back!"

 

They hide under a tiny wooden bridge and Will squats on top of it, peering between the slats. "Hello, fishies!"

 

There are bubbles and they swim in circles, but don't come out.

 

"Fish are friends," he says, vaguely recalling the phrase from somewhere. He hopes it makes them less scared. Will recognizes that he's bigger and weirder looking, since he's not a fish, nor very fish-y looking. "Fish are friends, not... uh... not..." Will ends up kneeling down and looking up to the sky to remember.

 

"Not food," another voice answers. The little five-year-old jumps up to look around. He spots a toe-headed older boy sitting in the bodega across the way. He's a kid too, but bigger. Will doesn't walk toward him, just stands there, feeling small and uncertain.

 

It's sort of awkward, because the older kid isn't talking and Will... Will didn't know there was anyone else around.

 

"... thank you," Will manages, because his dad told him to remember his manners. The blond beams for a second and then, impossibly cool, waves Will over in a universal move that clearly means 'come closer.'

 

"Hello," the boy greets—and it sounds funny, but Will won't make fun. He actually kind of likes the way the other child sounds. He is not calm as he is simply watching. Will is smiling—smiling makes people feel better around him he finds.

 

"Hi," he says. He looks at the other's lap, and sees a notebook filled with lots of lines and colors. Will instantly wants to color too, but it's not his coloring book. Instead, he holds out one hand like he has seen adults do, "My name is William Graham. But everybody calls me Will."

 

The blond doesn't blink. He mimics Will's gesture though, and carefully forms the words, "I am Hannibal Lector."

 

"Hannibal Lector," Will says softly, thinking how odd the name is, and how he should remember that. Hannibal Lector doesn't make any particular expression and Will finds a bit of comfort in that. He doesn't quite understand why, but sometimes _feelings_ were really tiring. It really upset his father, the _feelings_ Will could feel without really _feeling_ for himself, but Will was trying to be a good boy.

 

"Are you drawing?" Will asks. Hannibal nods, and he makes a move like he is about to show pictures, but stops. Will doesn't press, just lowers his hands. They didn't shake, but that's okay. Hannibal seems new to this place as well. "Does your daddy work here too?"

 

Hannibal shakes his head. Will hums, and looks back at the koi fish longingly. "My dad is the... um, mec—mecca-nick?"

 

"Mechanic."

 

"Yeah!" Will exclaims excitedly, "We use to live by the river and dad worked on boats and stuff, but then mommy got sick and we moved up here because the hospitals were better."

 

Hannibal is nodding, as if knowingly, when Will turns his head back to stare at Hannibal.

 

"I like fish. I miss the water and the boats."

 

"Koi," Hannibal responds. This time he does turn a page. The blond lifts up his drawings. There are several orange and white blobs floating in blue lines. Will gasps and wants to grab, but stops instead, just in case Hannibal gets mad. People often get mad when you grab their stuff.

 

"That's so good, Hannibal! You're a really good drawer!"

 

Hannibal blushes and shuts his book. "Still learning..."

 

"Are you in school?" Will asks. He takes a seat by the boy. Hannibal shakes his head no. It confuses Will. "How old are you?"

 

"I am ten," he answers, with a practiced confidence. Will grabs his own little feet as he fidgets.

 

"Um," he doesn't quite know what to say or ask, so he just ends up babbling, "I'm five. Dad says I can go next year when we get settled."

 

Hannibal doesn't really say anything. He fiddles with his coloring pencils—and there are _so_ many sitting placid, neat, organized like a rainbow at the side of his elegantly dressed hip that Will is slightly in awe. He wants to draw too... but, he doesn't know if he can even ask.

 

He's trying to drum up the courage when he hears his dad calling from down the way. Sadly, Will stands up. "I have to go now," he needlessly explains, "Bye Hannibal."

 

"Bye Will," Hannibal says, and it's lacking something. Will doesn't quite know what it is, so instead of turning tail and running, stares for a second longer.

 

"Fishes are friends," Will reminds him. Hannibal does smile now. It's shocking. Teeth a pure white, straight, and almost dangerously sharp-looking… but that’s probably only the reflection of the sun in them.

 

"Not food."

 

"Not food," Will mirrors the other boy’s smile—which seemed to shock Hannibal just as much—and then he ran after the instant tone of his father in the distance.

 

***

 

Will and Hannibal meet by the koi pond almost every chance Will gets to play in the gardens. Hannibal isn't always there, but when he is, Will learns that Hannibal's first language isn't English. So, Will talks to him and Hannibal shares books with him. Hannibal shows off what he's learned from private tutors so far.

 

He's apparently the Lady's nephew. Will hasn't seen the Lady, but she is apparently super nice and pretty… and then, eventually, Hannibal starts asking questions.

 

"Where is your mother?"

 

Hannibal is staring at Will as he tosses fish food off the bridge. Hannibal started bringing a bottle of flakes whenever he came to draw outside.

 

Will stops feeding the fishies and looks over, confused, "My... mommy?"

 

"Yes," he says. He's trying to use more words. Will plops his butt in the grass and looks at the koi. Tears escape, but he doesn't say anything. Hannibal is instantly beside him, wiping at his eyes. "No, no. It's okay. Don't cry—ah—?" Hannibal, in a semi-panic reverts so some other language in frustration and Will buries his face in his knees so he can't see. There is too much to feel. Too much from him and too much from Hannibal, who rarely panics like this. Will doesn’t want to panic, to feel the same things. He doesn't want to be the same. His dad said it’s wrong. _Invasive_. "I'm sorry, Will, please look at me."

 

Will doesn't realize he is getting loud and hiccuping and calling out for his mother. His mother who never minded how odd Will was. How much he could feel. She was always so collected. She was like a river rock, smoothed over by the rushing emotions of so many people, she knew how to keep her own feelings contained… and luckily, Hannibal's voice is a similar comfort that keeps him in the moment—

 

Until an arm is yanking him upward and Will stills. His dad is shaking him a bit, and Will quiets in the face of his father's silent suffering. He tries to apologize because his dad is saying something, but all he can feel is a hopelessness and loneliness and a bit of—of _something_ that is like sour candy. Bitter lemons in the back of his throat. If _feelings_ could be _tastes_.

 

Then, his head is being shoved down so he's looking at his feet and not his father's eyes and definitely _not_ at the pretty lady swaying down the path.

 

"I'm so sorry, Lady Murasaki!" His dad is apologizing and sounding very frantic, "I didn't realize he was bothering anyone. He's—He's got this condition—I’m sorry. I—uh!"

 

"It was my fault," Hannibal suddenly interrupts. It's loud, and seems to scare the adults in front of him. The Lady—who Will can't see much more than a silky, pastel dress of—shifts toward the other boy.

 

"Oh?" she responds, "So you speak now?"

 

"To Will. We are learning together."

 

There is a pregnant pause.

 

"Well, Mr. Graham. It seems the only one to apologize is myself. I should have explained that my young nephew also has a condition," she replies. Will blinks at the blurry ground and thinks about koi. The Lady is like a koi fish. She's so graceful. So quick. So careful. She drops down to Will's level. Calm and cool she bows her head until she catches Will's terrified gaze.

 

"Thank you?" Will says, through the tears, but isn't quite sure why. The Lady laughs, and Will rubs at his overflowing eyes.

 

"I'm sorry about your mother, Will," she says, and offers her hand. Will takes it—which is soft, but warm—and she squeezes his little hand in hers, "Would you like to have dinner with us tonight? Any friend of Hannibal's is always welcome at our table."

 

Will pauses, and looks to his father, whose relief is immense. Will looks back at the Lady and the nervous Hannibal. Will finds himself smiling, it's real and he is pretty sure it's all his.

 

"Please!"

 

***

 

The Lady moves Will into a room down the hall from Hannibal's, and they all have dinner every night. Will's dad still lives out in the garage, though, and sometimes, he doesn't always stay for dinner. Yet, he seems a bit more relaxed, and Will knows that's probably a good thing.

 

Hannibal gets in trouble a lot because he'll escape his tutors in more and more intricate ways to find out where Will is playing or exploring for the day. Eventually, the Lady talks to Will's father, and Will ends up sitting or at least staying in the same room with Hannibal. His dad tells him not to get too spoiled though. Will nods and tries to be a _good_ boy even harder.

 

It comes to a head one day when Hannibal ends up throwing a fit about something with a particular tutor. Will doesn't like to be in the same room as this guy—he has this look in his eyes that makes Will want to hide under the bed. The funny thing is, the tutor is super _nice_ to Will. Tells him to sit in his lap as he teaches arithmetic to Hannibal. Hannibal doesn't necessarily like it—Will can tell—but Hannibal hadn't been vocal about the situation until the tutor puts his hand on Will's little lap to steady him as he fidgets.

 

"William," the tutor offers quietly as Hannibal should be taking a quiz, "Would you like to be a big boy and learn things like Hannibal?"

 

Hannibal twitches at the mention of his name, but his pencil still scratches marks on his paper evenly, so the tutor doesn't notice. Will is busy messing with an abacus, not that he really understands it, but he likes pushing the colorful beads around.

 

"Hannibal is ten," Will says with a confidence he learned from Hannibal. He doesn't look up from the smooth blue beads. Hannibal says he really likes blue, but won't tell him why.

 

The tutor chuckles and takes away the abacus. Will doesn’t quite stop the pout, and the man continues with a slick smile, "Yes, but, with some private tutoring, you could be learning maths like Hannibal. Don't you want to be as smart as Hannibal?"

 

"No one is as smart as Hannibal," Will says seriously, and he's not quite sure why, but he's certain it's a fundamental truth of the universe. Hannibal stops scratching answers into the paper and glares at the tutor.

 

"Will is five," he says, "He doesn't need to know multiplication yet."

 

"You're never too old to learn adult things, Hannibal," the tutor snaps. Hannibal stands from his seat and holds out his arms.

 

"Give Will to me."

 

"Finish your test," the tutor tries, and he pushes Will further up his knees. Will squirms, butt feeling a bit tingly as it falls asleep.

 

"Give me Will," Hannibal insists, and his voice gets a bit more serious. Will looks at him, and something cold washes over him. The tutor has moved his hands along Will's chest. Securing him. Will doesn't move. Can't move.

 

"Hannibal—" he warns.

 

" _Give_!" he demands. There is a ferocity that causes Will to leap and the tutor to grab him more forcefully. Will makes abortive little whimpers. The tension in the room is giving him a headache.

 

"That's it! I will just have to separate the two of you," he says. Will is looking at Hannibal and he makes a scared noise. The tutor puts his hands on Will's mouth to shush him. Something flashes behind Hannibal's rust-colored eyes.

 

Will bites. Hard.

 

The tutor rears back. Suddenly Will is off his lap and scrambling behind Hannibal, heart pounding. Hannibal stands, triumphant as the tutor wails. Will spits out blood and something is caught in his teeth.

 

Will is horrified. That was _not_ what good boys do.

 

But Hannibal doesn't seem to know that. He just bares his teeth and takes another bite when the man lounges at him.

 

***

 

The tutor doesn't come back, and Hannibal refuses to let anyone talk to Will—well, almost anyone. The Lady asks Will if he understands what happened. She says he's not in trouble, and all Will can ask is, "Did I... Did I do bad? Are you gonna make my dad and me leave?"

 

His dad tears up at the dinner table. He excuses himself, and doesn't return until he smells worse than an ashtray. The Lady just shakes her head no. Hannibal is cutting his own meat slowly, not looking up at Will, but it's okay. Hannibal's aunt is super nice. They trust her.

 

"Hannibal sees someone," the Lady says, and then Hannibal looks up, frowning, "She's a doctor. I would like you to talk to her too. Just in case you feel bad."

 

"My Lady," Hannibal says, putting down the knife, "Will doesn't need to see Dr. Bloom."

 

"I believe the reason you got in so much trouble in the first place," the Lady says with such coldness, "Was _because_ you think you know what Will needs." Hannibal pinches his mouth closed and stares at his plate petulantly. "So, I do not believe this is up to discussion, Hannibal."

 

"Is Dr. Bloom nice?" Will asks. He fumbles with his knife, imitating Hannibal, and the Lady smiles. She rises and helps him with dinner. Hannibal continues to scowl into his food.

 

"Yes..." he answers miserably, "You'll probably like her."

 

And Will does. They play with puppets, and even better, she brought her puppy. He spends the most time petting and hugging the puppy—Noodles.

 

"Good pupper!" he giggles, because the puppy is named _Noodles_. Noodles sniffs and snuffs along his little hands with her cold nose. The doctor said Noodles was a shiba--or shebbu?

 

"You really like dogs, don't you, Will?"

 

"Dogs and fishies," he says, nodding. He doesn't look at the doctor. He just keeps petting Noodles. The doctor sits on the floor with him. They tried coloring together but the puppy was all Will wanted to focus on. "People are—"

 

Will stops. He tries to think of a word.

 

"People are just _a lot_."

 

"A lot of what, Will?"

 

"Just... like," Will tries to explain, "Like a lot of _feelings_. If they get too mad or too sad—like my daddy does sometimes—I can't, um, I can't be me."

 

The doctor pets Noodles too, while she questions him, "What does that mean?"

 

"I dunno," Will answers, and thinks about Hannibal, "Like, Hannibal is Hannibal. And I am me—but, um, when I am with the Lady, I get all... soft. And calm. I think like water. She's nice though, and cares a lot about Hannibal and wants him to be happy and so I do what she tells me and what she wants because she thinks I am _helpful_. And when I am with dad, I think like lemons and I wanna cry _all the time_. So, I have to be good and smile, because that's what dad wants."

 

The doctor doesn't say anything for a second. Will continues to pet Noodles, whose eyes close and he's happy and calm and Will sort of mimics him. He ends up giggling and hugging Noodles tight. The dog struggles briefly, but his tail is still swish-swishing in happiness.

 

"Will," Dr. Bloom pauses, "What do you feel when you are with me?"

 

Will stops hugging Noodles and shrugs. "Okay, I guess. But I'm not looking at you?"

 

"Why do you have to be looking at me?"

 

"It's how I know how you feel?"

 

"You can tell just by looking?"

 

"Yeah," Will says with scrunching brows, "Dad says it's part of my condition. Mommy could kind of do it too...? At least I think so?"

 

"... what exactly happened to your mommy?"

 

Will pokes at his head, "She was sick."

 

"I'm sorry," the doctor says. Will just nods. Everyone says that. Sometimes they mean it. Most of the time, it’s just words. There’s nothing you can do with empty words. "Is there something you want to talk about? To make you feel better?"

 

"Can I pet Noodles some more?"

 

***

 

Hannibal and him are sitting in the foyer, eavesdropping. Will wasn't keen on it at first, but Hannibal insisted, arguing, "It's always good to know things."

 

"Are we suppose to know?"

 

"It's about you, isn't it?" Hannibal says. The logic is sound, but it doesn't feel right. Will stays quiet and lets Hannibal do what he wants—he can't _really_ stop him anyway—however, he doesn't get much from the conversation the Lady and the Doctor get up to. Hannibal, though, has furrowed brows as he listens.

 

Eventually, it's decided that Will and Hannibal get see the doctor together, before there is a final decision. Hannibal doesn't quite enjoy the idea, and Will doesn't understand why. Hannibal just tells him to play along. The five-year-old doesn't like that idea.

 

"Let’s just be honest," Will preposes. Hannibal shakes his head.

 

When they sit in the doctors office the next week, Hannibal is quiet, and Will misses Noodles.

 

"Why don't we talk about our mommies?" the doctor starts, "Mine was named Mina and she was very, very good at dancing."

 

Hannibal doesn't say a word, so Will stays quiet too. He's confused, and swings his little legs idly. Will doesn't particularly want to talk much anyway, but he's not use to Hannibal's dead-set silence. The doctor sits back in her chair with a sigh.

 

"Your aunt told me you were doing better," Dr. Bloom finally says aloud, and Will looks at Hannibal curiously. The boy refuses to emote. Strangely, Will finds it as comforting as the first time he encountered Hannibal. "She said Will and you speak all the time."

 

Hannibal seems to harden further. Will just watches him. It doesn't make sense. The doctor turned to Will, and he was startled at first, by how earnest and open her entire being is to the pair.

 

"Hannibal lost his parents, and," she said as Hannibal finally looked at her, "A little sister. He probably tries to protect you like he tried to protect her, I think."

 

"O- _Oh_..."

 

That... sort of made him sad. Will folded his knees up and looks at his scruffy shoes. He tried to figure out why.

 

"How do you feel about that?"

 

"U-Ummm..."

 

"Do you not know?" she was asking and Will shrugged in response. "Are you unsure because you feel what Hannibal feels? You were looking at him earlier."

 

"That's different," Will sighed.

 

"How so?" the doctor asked. Even Hannibal looked over, confused. Will shrugged again.

 

The doctor turned to Hannibal this time, "Now, Hannibal, I believe Will here might be special—"

 

"He is."

 

Hannibal said it with just as much confidence as his age—or with how Will knows the blond is smarter than everyone else. Fundamental fact of the universe.

 

The doctor hesitated but nodded eventually. "And I believe the both of you could be good for one another. You're both experiencing intense emotions, and it could help you if we all talked."

 

Ironically, no one answered her. The doctor sighed.

 

"But, I am concerned that you could develop co-dependency issues... Do you know what that means?"

 

"No," Hannibal lies. Will knows it’s all lies—to the very bottom of his bones he can feel the lie sink in like acid. He takes a breath and turns to Hannibal, wondering why his friend would lie to the good doctor. She just wanted to help them.

 

"Well, it means that I don't want the two of you to develop a bond between each other that would force anyone else out of your lives," she said. Will bit his finger in thought. Hannibal's eye flickered over him, but he looked back to the doctor.

 

"Will is my friend," he said.

 

Will tilted his head at the words. They sounded weird to him...

 

Before he remembered—

 

Fish are friends, not _food_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> <3


End file.
